


Freestorm

by xxTAO



Category: - - Fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-06
Updated: 2018-08-06
Packaged: 2019-06-22 22:04:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15591687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxTAO/pseuds/xxTAO
Summary: She stood in the storm, comfortable in her solitude, desperately trying to grasp her freedom.





	Freestorm

There is something about the air just before a storm, after a long period of warm days. The wind blew hard, past her, as if she wasn't there. The earth, that had become dry and loose due to the hot sun that had scorched it the past few days, got blown up high, causing a brown mist. In the distance, she could hear the loud sound of the thunder over the rustling of the trees.

Her younger brother hated the thunder, it scared him, made him feel claustrophobic, but she loved the thunder. It made her feel safe. She knew that whenever it stormed, no planes would dare to take flight, no pilot dared to get in a plane, not even to throw bombs. She could feel the low rumbling reverberate in her bones.

The air felt almost electrified. She had goosebumps all over her skin, telling her she was cold, but she didn't mind. The warmth of the sun still lingered, though the sun now looked bleak, hidden behind clouds. The long clouds had soft edges and made the sky unclear. Even though it wasn't anywhere near sundown, the sky had a strange washy red-ish hue, that faded into light grey.

Whenever it stormed, the world seemed so small, yet so big at the same time.

Finally, fat raindrops began to fall from above, leaving dark round spots on the ground beneath.  
On the cliff, her hair got tossed around in the wind and her long brown hair got tangled. The river below began to roar. The water crashed against the riverbanks violently and white foam heads contrasted starkly with the grey-blue water. 

She loved how during a storm the world looked deprived of colour, as if someone had turned down the brightness. 

She closed her eyes while breathing in deeply, letting the dry and fresh, but heavy feeling air fill her lungs. Slowly she spread her arms, letting the cold wind blow against her bare arms, wishing they were wings. She felt like she could disappear in the distance, being carried on the wind to the horizon, yet at the same time, she felt like she was a rock, unyielding and strong and free. 

Everything she wished she was. 

Everything she wished she could become.

Everything she would never be. 

Not in this world.

She took step towards the edge, careful not to cut her exposed feet on the rough stone of the plateau. She didn't fear heights, wasn't scared that the gusts of wind would throw her into the deep. She'd stood here so many times, had balanced so many times on the edge, had run here so many times when she felt trapped. Trapped in a world in which no one cared for a teenage girl, in which no one cared how hard she would scream... or how hard she would cry. 

She didn't feel like screaming nor crying now. She was oddly calm. The thunder was screaming for her, and the sky wetted her pale cheeks, which hadn't tanned in the summer sun the past days because she was forced to stay in the bunkers instead. 

She listened closely to the rustling of the leaves. Her father, once a fisherman, had told her that the sound reminded him of crashing waves. She loved to imagine standing on a beach, her feet in the water and feeling the water going back and forth. Se closed her eyes, concentrating on the sound, and pictured looking out over an endless sea. She could only fathom such a large body of water. The biggest she'd seen in her life was the river raging below. Normally it was but a calm stream, but now the dark water was roaring wildly. The water was different though. No matter how wild, it would never have the unpredictability of a sea - or so she was told. 

Thinking of the sea she would never get to see in reality, she tried to imagine smelling the salty air. Instead, cold air smelling ever so slightly of pinewood pierced her nose, reminding her that she couldn't disappear into her imagination and that she was still on the cliff, a little outside the small town with invisible prison bars.

No, it wasn't fair that she would never get to see the sea and no, it wasn't fair that she couldn't even imagine such a vast world, even though she lived in it. 

It wasn't fair that she didn't even know what freedom felt like, but war isn't fair. Fairness didn't have anything to do with how the world works. She could blame the world all she wanted, she could stomp her feet on the ground or throw a fit, but it wouldn't change a single thing. 

If only she could leave the small city, anywhere else was fine. She refused to let this cruel world win, to let it take away everything from her. But where would she go? Even if she managed to leave this place, she still wouldn't be free. The sound of the screams of the dying would never leave her mind, all she could do was let the thunder drown out the sound of her memories. This cruel world would never allow her to live happily ever after. 

It may not yet have taken her life, but had long ago managed to take away her ability to live.

Wistful, she looked down at her feet, ugly white lines marking the places she'd cut her feet on the rocks before, and the ravine looming just over the rocks. She stood so close to the ledge, that it would only take one step to send her flying. 

Falling, she wondered, would it be like flying? Death, she wondered, would it free her from her meaningless life?

Thousand had already been killed in the war, and she'd follow soon enough. This way at least she'd have a choice. At least for once, she'd be the one deciding her fate, rather than some power-hungry people without any regard for human life.

If only she could. All it would take was one step. One tiny step to set her free.

If only she could.

But why couldn't she? Who'd stop her?

Slowly, centimeter by centimeter, she shuffled closer to the end of the plateau. With a watery smile, she spread her arms once again while her long dress danced around her legs, the wind playing with the thin fabric. 

She let herself fall forward, and then she was flying. A freefall. The wind whizzed in her ears. The cold prickled in her eyes and the raindrops fell with her, trying to keep up. The once deep-lavender dress - that had faded into a washy lilac over the years, fluttered wildly and her mind was finally blank, only focussed on the freeing sensation.

But the blissfully ingenuous moment quickly passed, and the wide smile on her face disappeared. 

 

She wasn't flying; she was falling. Uncontrollably falling, trapped in mid-air. The river began to look awfully big and she realized what she'd given up for those few moments of feeling free, for those few moments of the ghost of a taste of freedom.

She'd given up the possibility of ever being truly happy, of ever truly being free.

Just before disappearing in the waves, she realized that death is the worst cage of all. After all, there is no escaping from death. Never again can you break free from the darkness.

This is the end.


End file.
